


Obi-Wan's Smile

by Laura Shapiro (laurashapiro)



Category: Star Wars
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-16
Updated: 1999-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurashapiro/pseuds/Laura%20Shapiro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for The Spike, who wanted something much, much more perverse.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Obi-Wan's Smile

**Author's Note:**

> This is for The Spike, who wanted something much, much more perverse.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon looked up from his computer terminal. They were still about two   
hours from Naboo, and while he felt confident in his understanding of the   
situation there he felt it prudent to spend the trip continuing his research   
into the culture.

Obi-Wan gestured to the illuminated board in front of him. "How about a   
game?" Good-humored mischief played across the younger man's open   
features.

Damn him, Qui-Gon thought with affection. He never would settle down.   
True, Obi-Wan had come a long way since his unfocused youth, could now   
comport himself with all the discipline required of a Jedi. *If* he chose.

He forced himself to return his gaze to the terminal. "Obi-Wan, I'm working   
now. As you should be."

"Here we are, light-years from any responsibilities, with a few hours before   
anything official is expected of us. Why not relax, for a change?" One of the   
game's holographic animals made a vaguely obscene gesture in Qui-Gon's   
direction. "I'll even let you win."

Qui-gon snorted.

"Come on, Master. What can you possibly expect to learn about Naboo that   
you don't already know? And besides, didn't you teach me to enter any new   
situation with a clear head?" He rose from his chair and waved his hand   
between Qui-Gon's face and the terminal. "You're not going to clear your   
head that way. Only cram it full of useless facts which may cloud your   
judgment at the crucial moment."

His Master met his eyes, taking in Obi-Wan's mocking humor, unarguable   
logic, and something else, something that challenged him in a way that had   
nothing to do with their Knight/Apprentice relationship. Or maybe   
everything. Qui-Gon licked his lips and instantly regretted the weakness, as   
Obi-Wan took it in. Still, there was a lesser evil here.

"All right, Obi-Wan. It's clear you've learnt your lessons well. Let's have a   
game."

His Apprentice smiled broadly, and Qui-Gon was flooded with fondness in   
spite of himself. He smiled back. When it seemed to Qui-Gon that they'd been   
grinning at each other for a bit longer than was strictly necessary, Obi-Wan sat   
down and punched a few buttons on the gameboard.

For once, Qui-Gon did not instruct his Apprentice in the strategic arts during   
the game, did not, when his moves failed, counsel him on what he should   
have done. Qui-Gon had decided to let the young man lead himself. Besides,   
Obi-Wan was right. He could do with a little relaxing, and it was seductively   
pleasant to be free of the necessity of Being An Example at every moment. In   
fact --

"You cheated!" Obi-Wan's face was a mixture of shock and horror. Qui-Gon   
leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyes   
twinkling.

"You--" all at once, his Apprentice burst into laughter. "You cheated! I can't   
believe it!"

"You're always telling me I take things too seriously."

"Yes, but I..." he was giggling too hard to finish.

"If I'd known this would delight you so, I'd have done it before now." Obi-  
Wan's giggles stopped abruptly and he looked sharply at his Master. Qui-Gon   
cringed inwardly, cursing his too-quick tongue, not for the first time.

"Oh you would?" Obi-Wan was looking frankly at his mouth now. "I didn't   
realize my delight was so important to you."

Qui-Gon stood hastily. "Yes, well...thank you for the game, Obi-Wan. I'm   
going to spend the rest of the trip...meditating, I think..." he started for the   
ship's perfunctory living quarters, but found himself restrained by his   
Apprentice's strong hand on his arm. The younger man looked intently into   
his eyes.

"You don't want to do that."

My god, was Obi-Wan trying to use the Force against him? No, he realized.   
These were his own feelings speaking to him, with such a vehemence that he   
swayed slightly on his feet. Obi-Wan was right. He _didn't_ want to meditate.   
He wanted...oh.

Oh.

And then the younger man's lips were on his own, and he lost all reason in   
that soft warm insistence. This *had* to be wrong, he insisted to himself, as   
his whole body screamed its acquiescence and his hands found Obi-Wan's   
rusty hair, pulling him closer. His mouth opened to his Apprentice's questing   
tongue, relishing the slither of hungry muscle as it stroked his own, then   
dove deeper, scrubbing the last of his objections from his overloading brain.

Both men moaned into the kiss, Qui-Gon's hands fisting in Obi-Wan's hair,   
the younger man already working to loosen his Master's tunic. Qui-Gon   
smiled into the kiss. Always too eager, this one.

"What?"

"Nothing." And Qui-Gon kissed *him* this time, brushing his lips against   
Obi-Wan's and then sucking them, first the lower, then the upper, then the   
lower again, into his mouth. Obi-Wan giggled.

"Tickles."

His Master's response was to bury his face in the other man's neck, devouring   
his throat in a series of increasingly ravenous bites. Obi-Wan moaned and   
thrust against him, his still-shirted chest pressing against Qui-Gon's now bare   
one as his tunic puddled on the floor. Obi-Wan trailed his fingers through the   
other man's chest hair and then pinched a nipple. Hard.

Lightning arced through Qui-Gon as the almost-pain concentrated everything   
wonderful and right into the tiny point between Obi-Wan's fingertips. He   
threw his head back, lost in the dancing light for a moment, and then Obi-  
Wan's mouth claimed the other nipple for his own.

Helplessly, Qui-Gon dragged them both down to the floor, holding the other   
man on top of him as firmly as he could, never wanting that perfect suckling   
pressure to end. Tiny currents were running from Obi-Wan's mouth to his   
own nipple to his cock, and he hoped Obi-Wan could feel them too so that he   
would know that he should never, ever stop.

The Obi-Wan's thigh drove against his cock, and everything else became   
senseless distraction. Qui-Gon growled and dragged Obi-Wan's mouth up to   
his own, thrusting hard against Obi-Wan's erection with his own. Obi-Wan's   
turn to growl, and he rode his Master hard for a few precious moments,   
thrusting a counterpoint with his tongue.

Then Qui-Gon was robbed of his kiss as Obi-Wan slid down again, his mouth   
roaming over the other man's chest and belly, his hands deftly working   
trouser fastenings until - oh - those too-soft lips closed around the head of   
Qui-Gon's cock. Hot, soft, yet intense, the Apprentice's mouth drew groans   
from him as it slid down his length, back up again, down...Obi-Wan's hand   
caressed his balls gently in smooth circles all the while, sending aching waves   
through the gathering tightness in his groin.

Obi-Wan was moving fast (impatient or just hungry?), and all of Qui-Gon's   
self-control exercises couldn't save him. He didn't want to be saved, unless it   
was by that impossible, oh god amazing tongue, those pliant lips, the hand   
now following the mouth up and down. Yes, yes, oh please, and the Jedi   
Knight tightened his hands in his Apprentice's hair and came, a sharp shout   
and protracted bucking, holding on for dear life.

Obi-Wan drank him down, riding the waves of his orgasm with a cool   
confidence that might have astonished Qui-Gon had he been able to notice it.   
The aftershocks rippled through him for seeming-eternities, and then just   
before sensation became too much, Obi-Wan released him and slid back up   
the length of his body to give Qui-Gon a taste of himself.

Qui-Gon kissed him with gratitude, passion, and something like pride, and   
then fell back to catch his breath. His Apprentice regarded him, propped on an   
elbow.

"I told you you needed to relax."

Sweat plastered Obi-Wan's ruddy hair to his temple in matted curls, glistened   
on his brow and nose. His tanned cheeks were rosy; stubble flanked his   
swollen mouth.

Qui-Gon grinned briefly, then held out his hand, focused for an instant. Obi-  
Wan's tunic and trousers untied themselves and flew across the cabin. Qui-  
Gon allowed himself a few minutes to study the now-laughing Obi-Wan's   
golden body, chest and shoulders rounded with muscle, stomach flat and   
lean, sinewy flanks, the whole just dusted with reddish-brown furriness, fine   
and soft. It was a body he'd seen hundreds of times in their training, but   
never allowed himself to admire, much less wallow in.

His Apprentice reached for him, and Qui-Gon rolled on top of him, cupping   
his face in his hand. They held each other's eyes while Qui-Gon fruitlessly   
sought words, swallowed, gave in, and kissed him again, his hand moving to   
the younger man's cock which pressed against their bellies.

"Oh," Obi-Wan breathed, as Qui-Gon's thumb slipped over the tip, and again,   
and again, until Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Qui-Gon traced the thickening vein   
and then brought his palm up, licked it, and returned the hand to its proper   
place. Obi-Wan's cock thrived eagerly in his now-moist hand, felt so utterly at   
home there that Qui-Gon felt himself stirring again in empathic pleasure. He   
bent to tongue the younger man's nipple as his hand slid up, over, and down   
in a pulsing rhythm that made Obi-Wan's hips rise helplessly.

"Please..."

Qui-Gon smiled.

"Please...not yet...I want to...I want you."

Comprehension hit Qui-Gon in the stomach like a fist, but just as quickly the   
shockwaves dissipated into something that felt a lot like eagerness. And yet--

"I don't think..."

Obi-Wan looked at him intently. "Please, Master."

And then it was all right somehow, and Qui-Gon was lying down, lifting his   
legs, surrendering himself again to Obi-Wan's determined tongue, this time   
slippery against his bottom. Delicate ripples of pleasure spread out in   
sensitive waves and he felt himself opening under that licking, swirling,   
tickling, wet probing muscle. Abandonment for an instant, and then a blunt   
pressure of Obi-Wan's finger, and a sharp twisting pain, and then oh god   
thrusting, gently, opening him, and Qui-Gon grunted and concentrated and   
relaxed and suddenly it was all good, it could only be good.

"More."

Obi-Wan must have known his Master had allowed Jedi training to ease   
things, must have felt the sudden begging yawning cavernous hunger around   
his finger, because it was replaced almost instantly with his moistened cock.   
No pain this time, no resistance, as fluid as rain and just as inevitable, Obi-  
Wan's cock slid home.

Both men moaned and Obi-Wan leaned forward, clutching his Master's   
shoulders as he thrust slowly, but with intensity. Qui-Gon gripped his   
forearms, breathing hoarsely, his cock smearing his belly with glassy trails. So   
full, so much, so good, and Obi-Wan rocked forward and back, savoring him,   
eyes squinched shut, litany of pleasure chanting itself across his face.

But it was Qui-Gon who groaned, Qui-Gon who grunted, Qui-Gon who   
hissed "yes" like a man who had never known control, much less instructed   
the other in its exercise. And still Obi-Wan pounded and strove, his fingers   
digging into the older man's straining biceps.

Qui-Gon could only watch him in abandon and love, rocked to the core and   
shuddering to receive every thrust, until a hoarse cry ripped another climax   
from him, spattering his chest.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open to drink in his Master's pleasure, to drink it all, to   
take it all. Qui-Gon's spasms around him drew him further, drew him over,   
and his orgasm threw him against the other man in a series of shuddering   
gasps.

They lay tangled, Qui-Gon struggling to quell a leg cramp until Obi-Wan   
gently withdrew, forcing trembles from both, and lay down, exhausted.

"I suppose you feel that this is proper preparation for a diplomatic mission."

"You've taught me that diplomacy requires the ability to get inside another   
person --"

Qui-Gon clapped his hand over his Apprentice's mouth, laughing. He could   
feel Obi-Wan's smile under his hand.


End file.
